viva la vida
by supernovas
Summary: everything goes, years pass, but the memories don't fade and neither do the feelings /massington. for nat!


**for the amazing author ... one and only … xoxo Starry-eyed!**

**(exactly a 1000 words)**

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**viva la vida**

Derrick watched as Massie pushed past the stacks and stacks of her mother's favorite albums and the many dusty and old framed pictures and pulled out a large, tightly clasped wooden box. She gingerly fingered the ancient carvings and turned to him. "We might as well have something to do while we're stuck here."

It was hard pretending it was all okay, when they were both trapped in the Blocks' old attic, cramped together with the large pile of old stuff her parents had stored. He didn't mind being stuck with her, but he knew very well that she didn't want to be near him, not even five years after high school graduation at the reunion meet.

High school had been amazing, but somewhere near the end, things started to mess up so after graduation, the once close-knit gang left Westchester for their separate ways.

Yet he'd chosen to follow her when she said she was going to visit her old home, he'd followed her up the attic to fetch some stools and whether by destiny or not, the door had jammed, and now they were both stuck in her dingy attic.

"Help me go through this stuff."

He hesitantly took a seat beside her, and she pulled out a smaller shoe-box packed with old and wrinkly papers, mainly notes she and her Pretty Committee had once passed to each other. He was just about to go through the stack when Massie snatched the box away from him. "You don't need to read anything. Just pile it up besides that statue over there."

Derrick shrugged. He didn't want to pick up another fight with her, not after everything that had happened before. He rummaged through his Diesel bag and pulled out a McDonalds take-home bag. The last meal they'd eaten had been hours ago. The nice thing would have been to offer some to Massie, but of course, she would never eat something so calorie-packed and besides, it would ruin her breath, he thought bitterly.

* * *

"Could I have some?"

He almost choked on his fries. "What?"

She scowled at him. "I haven't had anything but two grapes and an apple since today morning, unlike you and your boys, who helped yourself to basically everything laden on the breakfast table. Now, will you give me some or not?"

His lips turned slightly. She sounded so childlike and obnoxious, something that was familiar and strangely comforting. Three years of working on Runway hadn't changed her at all. "What's the magic word?"

She pursued her lips, and he could tell she was keeping back the biting comments and on-the-spot comebacks she would have loved to spit out at him. "Please. Please, Derrick?"

Laughing now, he handed her a pile of fries, layered with extra ketchup, and to his surprise, she took them without complaint. Granted, she was grimacing like he was handing her poison, but at least she was ready to eat food touched by him.

When she turned back around, the box she'd kept hidden beside her tipped a little and he caught a glimpse of what was inside. There was a smashed CD, but not just any CD; _Viva La Vida _by Coldplay. Their song. The song that they'd both been forced to sing on Karaoke night in freshman year, and the song that had eventually become "their song." Seeing it broken, lifeless and shattered suddenly made everything seem so real and so sad.

She hadn't noticed anything. He returned to sorting through the piles of crap, like nothing had really happened even though he was itching to go through the box, carefully examining every memoir that he hadn't known she'd kept.

* * *

"I'll be right back." He looked up to see Massie hurriedly get up, brush some imaginary dust of her shorts and disappear behind a large red curtain hanging off the ceiling. Now was the time. _Do it, Derrick. You can do it, Harrington,_ the voice inside him urged.

Before he could loose his nerve, Derrick grabbed the box in a rush and emptied it out beside him. A mess of papers and old records spilled out onto the ground. Hidden between the piles of thin papers was something thicker, something sturdier and harder. A photograph.

Brushing the dust off the picture, he squinted at two figures, and his eyes slowly widened in recognition. It was a picture, a few years old, after Massie and Derrick had returned from Alicia's birthday party and she'd had eight glasses of coke. Her eyes were giddy, glittering with excitement and mischief, she was sticking her tongue out and his arm was loosely wrapped around her waist. They both looked so young, so ridiculously happy.

"Don't you miss this?"

Startled, he looked up. Massie was standing behind him, her arms crossed and a small tear trickling down her cheek, making its way to her neck and below. He tried to say yes, but his voice sounded muffled and choked so all he could really do was nod.

She seemed on the verge of saying something, but she stumbled and on instinct, his arm was around her and suddenly she was buried into him. Neither of them made any effort to move, and he could smell the strawberry shampoo in her hair, the scent of Chanel on her clothes as he pulled her closer. The hug felt right, safe, soothing, amazing.

He could have stayed right there, forever, never letting go and it would have been enough.

Just like old times.

_Never an honest word, _

_But that was when I ruled the world_

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**xoxo starry-eyed: seems choppy & reallysimilar to again :/ but hoped you like it! have a great month! happy MAY! tried making a cover but its nothing like splendeurs. ;)  
**


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